Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. And that's the truth. Pbbbbttttt.

A/N: First things first. I'm so sorry this has taken so long to get posted. I could give you any number of excuses, all of which valid, but I won't. Needless to say, real life happens, and you just have to deal with it sometimes.

So, I decided the least I could do would be to give you all another double update: this chapter today, and another one in a couple days.

Just a very quick reminder where we are. We are now FINALLY into August 1... only hours after Harry has realized his feelings. I know it's been an eternity for us (even worse for me), but again, it's only been about fifteen hours for Harry. But they've been the most important few hours of his life up to this point. Once we get to August 2, the rest of the month will pass very quickly, in only a couple chapters (compared to the six that his birthday took...)

Thank you again, MapleMountain, my most vocal reminder ("So... when do I get the next chapter?") for working your magic as always. I should be glad you're several states away from me. Any closer, and you'd probably be pounding on my door, "encouraging" me to hurry up.

Remember, real life... PG-13... And on that note, please know that the rest of the story will not be as focused on "growing up" as these last few have. It's just been a very busy day for Harry. He's had a lot of things to sort out. Things might pop up here and there, but it won't be as focused as we have lately.

And finally (yes finally), Dan is quoting something from a TV show that he's seen. I haven't mentioned the show by name yet, but I think I've established that he'd watch it. Ten points to anyone who can spot it. If you don't recognize the name of the Executor, then you probably won't get it. But hey, it's just for fun, so no worries... :-)

Chapter 19. Everything's Going to Change Now, Isn't It?

She'd long gotten over her guilt about fantasizing about Harry. They were, after all, only fantasies. What's more, she now knew that they were no longer meaningless fantasies. As soon as he arrived, however, she stopped... indulging them. With him literally sleeping only feet away from her, she wasn't quite that comfortable.

That said however, she certainly didn't object when Harry visited her in her dreams... which happened more often than she would care to admit, even to herself. As the longing slowly grew, she really hoped Harry would visit her again tonight...

* * *

Harry's POV, back where (and when) we last left him, 3:26...

Harry stared intently at the wall; behind it he knew Hermione was sleeping only a few feet away. Immediately, an image of her sleeping in her bed in an insidiously thin negligee came to his mind. He tried unsuccessfully to clear it from his mind. "Oh, I am in SOOO much trouble now," he whispered to himself as he tried to go back to sleep.

He was so tired that he felt like he should fall asleep immediately, but instead, Harry lay on his bed for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling, hoping that if he stared at the same spot long enough, maybe his eyes would get tired. He refused to look at the clock... that would only make time pass more slowly.

Finally, just as he felt his eyelids getting heavy and he thought he was about to fall asleep, he heard something. At least... he thought he did.

Knock, knock.

As Harry's mind treated him to a repeat of the dream again, he had no memory of going through it the first time. As such, it felt just as real this time as it did the first. The main difference however was that this time, since his body was still... affected from the first dream, it had a head start on this second one. Thus, when this dream finished to completion, so too did Harry.

Harry's eyes shot open, very awake, the instant he realized what was happening. They then quickly clenched shut tight as waves of the single most intense feeling he'd ever experienced (excluding the Cruciatus Curse of course) radiated out through his body. It had NEVER felt like that before.

As Harry slowly descended down from his apex, his breathing began to return to normal and his eyes slowly fluttered open. Looking up, the ceiling sparkled with thousands of tiny pinpricks of lights. Evidently his eyes were none too happy with the mistreatment by their own eyelids.

Harry vaguely became aware that he was tightly grasping onto something in his hands. Intentionally avoiding looking in a certain direction, he raised his head slightly and focused his attention on his right hand. He clearly remembered holding a wand in his dream only a few moments ago. He looked and found instead that the only things in his hands were the bed sheets and mattress cover beneath. He'd managed to pull up everything but the mattress itself.

Willing himself to release the grip on his defenseless sheets, Harry set his head back down, closed his eyes again, and took in a few steadying breaths. As he did, he found himself considering what had just happened. That had never happened before, at least not like that. He'd always required his own... assistance before now. But there was no mistaking what had just happened. This was certainly going to change things, for him at least...

Before he was able to get too far into his introspection, Harry heard something. At least... he thought he did.

Knock, knock, knock.

Now truly awake, Harry had full recollection of his first two dreams. A small part of him laughed at the injustice of it all. In the past twenty-four hours, Hermione had gone from just his best friend to the girl he now knew he fancied... the girl whom he now knew was the most beautiful in the world... the girl who'd been able to make him do something, while he was unconscious no less, that he'd only ever been able to do previously with a silencing charm and some deliberation. And to top it all off, now there was someone knocking on his door.

Unlike in his previous dreams however, this time it was a regular knock, not a quiet one. Harry quickly looked around to consider his options. While he finally felt free of his earlier mental and physical frustration, he was still in a compromising state. He didn't know anything of the theories about how a full bladder placed pressure on the prostate causing a stimulatory effect, but he had recognized a pattern over the years that a full bladder in the morning would often cause the same condition.

With no time for anything else, Harry quickly sat up in his bed and pulled as much of the sheets as he could into his lap to hide himself, just as he had done the previous morning when Hermione brought him breakfast.

"Yes?" Harry answered the knock. The door opened quietly. He wasn't sure if he was glad at who he saw enter his room. It was Dan, looking fresh out of the shower.

"Harry," Dan greeted him cautiously. "I was walking by and I thought I heard you moan. Are you all right?" he asked as he approached. "You look a little peaky."

Peaked is more like it, Harry thought to himself. He brushed his hand over his face. It was still a little sticky from sweat.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just a dream," he said rather vaguely.

"Nightmares again?" Dan asked in concern.

It took everything Harry had to not laugh. "Not exactly," he said before he realized it. Embarrassed and still feeling exposed (though he was perfectly covered), he unconsciously grabbed another handful of blanket and drew it towards his lap.

Though Dan did not look away from Harry's face, he was still able to see the movement and the vicinity in which it was located.

"Ah," he said simply in recognition. He looked around the room for a moment in awkwardness. "If, uh, you wanted to make a quick escape to the bathroom for a shower, now would be a good time. Hermione is chasing Crookshanks around the backyard right now and Emma is still in her bath. The hallway should be safe from prying eyes."

Harry suddenly felt eternally grateful to Hermione's father. He seemed to understand the situation and hadn't killed him yet. That certainly was a plus.

"So," Dan said with a laugh, "who is she?"

If an answer hadn't come to him so quickly, Harry might've panicked at Dan's question.

"The girl of my dreams," he answered easily and with a hint of defeat (that Dan knew it was about a girl).

"Smooth one," Dan replied quickly with a smirk. Harry began to wonder if Dan was actually going to ask him who she really was.

"Don't worry. I'd never ask you who she was. We're all entitled to our secrets. Besides, it's not like I even know her, right?" Dan asked innocently as he looked at Harry intently.

Harry quickly looked away for a moment. Since he was turned away, he did not see the momentary look of triumph on Dan's face. Some idiotic part of his mind wanted to scream out Hermione's name at Dan's question. He wanted him to know how special his daughter really was, completely ignoring what happened in his dreams. He knew that if he continued to look at Dan, he'd just blurt it out.

Dan turned to walk back to the doorway. As he stepped out into the hall, he stopped for a moment and looked both ways down the hall and down the stairs. He then turned around and walked a few steps back into Harry's room.

"Harry, you do know that Hermione's told us a lot about you, right?" he asked.

Harry remembered Emma saying something to that effect when they picked him up from Privet Drive. He nodded.

Dan looked a little awkward at what he was about to say. "At several points, I thought to myself how hard it has to've been for you to not have your father or your godfather there for you... you know... to answer any questions you might have... about growing up." Dan looked embarrassed.

"Look, I'm not trying to take anyone's place, nor am I asking you to say anything you don't want to," Dan said with a certain amount of uneasiness. "And I'm quite sure it's not my place to have 'the talk' with you. But... I am willing to answer any simple questions you might have."

Dan rubbed the back of his neck as he continued to explain. "I just remember what it was like when I was your age. My father believed that those weren't the kinds of things you talked about. I had to ask some of my friends about... certain things. Not only was that embarrassing, but... talk about the blind leading the blind," he said with an embarrassed laugh.

"You don't have to say anything right now," he resumed, much to Harry's relief. "I just wanted you to know that you had another option, besides your classmates. I'd hate to think that they were your only source of information, especially considering they're probably just as scared and confused as you are... about growing up. They at least have their parents they can talk to."

Harry wondered for a moment if he should be offended at being called scared and confused. And don't even get him started on how Dan had actually brought up the fact that he didn't have his parents there for him. But then he realized though that he was scared and confused. He didn't have anyone to talk to about that.

Who could he talk to? Remus? Maybe... but he was his professor once; that might be a little weird. Ron? Fred and George? They'd all probably start laughing at the mere mention of anything sexual, no matter how serious Harry tried to be. Poor Neville'd probably faint. And he was pretty sure he didn't want to know what his other two dorm mates thought about those topics. Who'd that leave? Draco?

Everything had changed so quickly in the last twenty-four hours. He was quite familiar with the particular event he'd woken up to, but... it had never before happened like that. It had never been that intense. And it had never been associated with Hermione. Who was he going to talk to? It was just so much to take in all at once.

But more than anything else, there was one thing that...

As Dan turned to leave the room again, Harry spoke quietly. "Is it normal?" he asked timidly as he stared intently at the end of his bed. "Is it normal to have a dream... about someone... and..." he trailed off, unintentionally glancing down for a fraction of a second, then looking back. He was desperate to hear the answer, and yet afraid to at the same time.

Harry watched as Dan studied him intently for a few moments. Finally he seemed to make some sort of decision. He didn't actually smile, rather his expression merely lightened in understanding and sympathy.

"Yes, Harry, it is normal. Sometimes our dreams help us understand what we want or need. Sometimes they help us understand what we don't want." A small smile then appeared. "And sometimes they don't make any sense and don't help us at all.

"That said, I suspect that if it has you this... concerned, then you do know what it might mean. Sometimes our unconscious mind can tell us more than our conscious mind, especially if we're unsure of or afraid of the answer."

Harry looked down at his feet still under the sheets and nodded slightly, for his own benefit, really.

"Just remember, Harry... everything, all this," Dan said, waving his hand at the world around him, "in the end, it's all just a bunch of signals that get processed up here." He tapped the side of his head with his index finger. "When the dream feels real enough, your brain will send out the same signals as if it were real, and your body... will react accordingly.

"If you're sure about your dreams," he continued, "but you feel bad that you are having them..." Dan smiled in a guilty manner when Harry looked back up at him. "Hey, trust me. I was your age once. Been there. Done that.

"Remember," Dan continued, "a man can't be held responsible for what his mind does when he's asleep. If you really do 'have eyes for only one,'" he said, raising an eyebrow to indicate that he too spoke guy and had not missed what the women did, "then as long as your eyes and your dreams are on the same one, then I wouldn't worry too much about it.

"Just remember though," Dan added quickly, becoming serious but not threatening, "dreams are only dreams. You might not be held accountable for your dreams, but you are still responsible for your actions." He smiled in a way that Harry found rather reassuring. Dan seemed to understand what had happened and he didn't seem at all angry.

It seemed obvious to Harry that Dan did not suspect who he'd dreamt about. While part of him was very glad for this, since it meant he would not die today (at least at the hand of an angry father), another part of him was slightly... depressed? If Dan did not even seem to consider the possibility that he might fancy Hermione, how did that bode for his chances?

Did Dan consider his daughter to be way out of his league? Truth be told, a small part of Harry worried that exact thing. How could such a beautiful person like Hermione (forget looks for a moment) ever possibly be interested in someone like me?

Or, even worse, maybe Dan knew something about how his daughter felt about Harry? Maybe he isn't worried because he knows that she isn't interested in me? Maybe he knows that she already fancies someone?

Harry had gotten the impression from her that she wasn't interested in Ron. Who else could it be? Maybe she's still writing to Viktor?

Harry suddenly felt a seething fire of jealously roar to life in his chest. Bloody Durmstrang took HER to the ball, attacked Cedric in the maze...

"Now, I'll leave you, and your empty hallway, to your shower." Dan said, interrupting Harry's internal tirade and dousing his flames slightly (though they continued to smolder). He then turned and left, heading down the stairs. The whole episode hadn't even lasted more than a couple seconds. Harry shook his head slightly. Get a grip, Potter! She's hasn't even mentioned him once since Christmas. Don't overreact!

After taking several calming breaths, he reached under his night stand, grabbed his wand, and flicked it towards his door, closing it. Dashing around his room, he quickly grabbed Dobby's gift, some clean clothes, his bathroom kit, and finally Ginny's gift. Now was as good a time as any to try out both of his new presents.

When Harry opened his door, he double checked to make sure there was no one in the hall, just as he had his first morning there, and every morning since then. Even though he was holding his clothes protectively over his midsection, he still didn't want to take any chances of anyone seeing him in his present morning-state.

After a revitalizing shower (first very cool to calm him, then very warm to relax him), Harry quickly decided he might need to do a little revising on his cleaning charms. Trying to vanish the evidence of the somniatory incident, he suddenly found himself with one fewer pairs of briefs. It was a good thing he had picked up some new ones when they went shopping.

After brushing his teeth and shaving, Harry looked at the box containing Ginny's gift. The bottle of Dr. Koolskin's Aftershave was very practical. Dragging a sharp razor blade across one's face on a daily basis was not always the most comfortable thing in the world. He had to admit, that was probably the only thing he envied of his uncle's: his electric razor... not that he'd ever used one, but it did look to be more comfortable.

Harry opened the aftershave and applied some to his now slightly irritated skin. A relieved smile appeared on his face as the cobalt blue concoction worked its magic (though that probably went without saying). He was surprised however to notice that it didn't have any smell. Then again, it came bundled with a bottle of cologne, so maybe it wasn't supposed to have any smell.

Harry now examined the bottle containing the bright emerald green liquid.

He turned the bottle over to read the back label to find out exactly what was so "him" about it.

Congratulations on buying 'Exactly YOU Cologne!' You will be joining the select few experiencing the latest in Wizarding style.

Inspired by Amortentia, this unique and patent-pending formulation smells different to each person who smells it. THIS IS NOT A LOVE POTION, SO DON'T GET ANY IDEAS! NO REFUNDS IF YOU WANTED THIS FOR A LOVE POTION!

Just a few drops applied on the sides of your face and this groundbreaking advancement in Wizard grooming will take effect. Once applied, each person who detects this amazing product will immediately smell whatever positive olfactory attribute they best associate with you.

Harry laughed to himself as the text began to scroll since there was more there than the label could display.

Whether it be that bouquet of flowers you always buy for your special someone, or the smell of butterbeer for your drinking mates (yes, it works on guys too... Hey! It's not a love potion, so don't worry about it!), everyone who gets near you will smell EXACTLY YOU... whatever THEY think that is!

WARNING: Known side effect: People who dislike you but secretly envy something about you may be upset by this product. It tends to remind them of what you have that they don't. Don't say we didn't warn you.

REMEMBER: This revolutionary fragrance was only inspired by Amortentia. It is NOT a love potion. It won't make that girl you've been secretly fancying suddenly fall in love with you. But you will at least smell good to her. So don't complain when it doesn't happen. And don't come looking for a refund either.

Harry started chucking once he reached the end of the label. "I wonder if they got a visit from someone's solicitor," he said quietly to himself.

Opening the top, he took a tentative first smell. He didn't smell anything. Of course, he hadn't put it on yet. Applying a few drops to his hands, Harry then rubbed them on the sides of his face and his neck. He still didn't smell anything. Then again he rarely noticed his own scent, unless he was really dirty, in which case that certainly wouldn't be a "positive olfactory attribute."

Harry returned to his room, adding the aftershave and cologne to his bathroom kit and putting them away. Glancing at the clock, he took note of the time: 7:30. Turning back to the door, his eye caught on Hedwig's cage... her empty cage. His heart jumped into his throat for a second in panic until he remembered that he'd allowed her to come and go as she pleased.

Arriving in the kitchen, Harry found Dan finishing breakfast while Hermione sat at the table reading her morning Daily Prophet.

"Still nothing?" he asked. Hermione shook her head, not looking up. "Not that I'm complaining about the lack of activity, but sometimes I just feel like I'd almost prefer if something did happen... something small. Otherwise it just feels too quiet, you know?"

Hermione set down her paper and looked at him as he sat down across from her. She smiled at him in a sad sort of way. And just like that, with that smile (though sad), all thoughts of Viktor were finally extinguished. "Yeah, I know what you mean," she agreed solemnly. "But if our only two choices are no news or all-out war, then no news is good news, I suppose."

Harry returned her sad smile and nodded in agreement. Dan began to bring over plates of breakfast. Emma came downstairs a few minutes later and joined them.

After breakfast, as they put their dishes in the dishwasher, Emma turned to Hermione. "You look well rested this morning, dear."

"Yeah," Hermione replied. "Well... you know, a, uh, good night's sleep can do wonders sometimes. I actually woke up rather early, around six. I really wasn't in a mood to go back to sleep, so I just lay there for a while, you know, nice and warm under the covers.

"By the way, Harry," Hermione said, emphasizing his name as she elbowed him slightly, "remind me to be mad at you later. I about had a heart attack this morning when I saw Metis was gone. But then I remembered about your little window trick."

"Well, at least this time you didn't scream and cause someone to break down your door," Harry teased. He heard Dan cough slightly to hide a laugh. Hermione glared at the two of them, but somehow he knew she wasn't too angry with them.

"Ah, don't worry about it," Harry told her. "You already got your revenge. I had a similar reaction when I came back and saw Hedwig was gone too. I'm sure she's loving it. I always have to keep her locked up at the Dursleys'."

A few moments later, Dan looked up at the clock; it was nearly eight o'clock. "Well gang, I suppose we best be off. Everybody ready? Does everyone have their wand?" Dan teased.

If anyone had looked at Hermione at that very moment, they would have seen her biting her lower lip, fighting valiantly to hide her embarrassed smile as she recalled exactly why she woke up early that morning. Fortunately for her however, Dan and Emma were too busy teasing Harry; Harry was too busy trying to look offended at being teased.

"Hey now! It's been weeks since then!" he replied defensively.

"Do you have your Gringotts letter?" Hermione, now recovered, asked knowingly as she pulled hers out of her jeans pocket.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed briefly. "I was just on my way up to get it," he said unconvincingly. "Why do we need it anyway?" he asked her.

"I don't know," Hermione replied simply. "But how would you feel if we got there and they suddenly asked you for it for some reason?"

Harry smiled slightly. He couldn't find any fault with that bit of reasoning. Then again, that wasn't at all really surprising, considering the source. While he was up in his room retrieving his letter, he took a moment to put an owl treat in Hedwig's cage for when she returned.

He then turned his attention to Neville's Venus Flytrap which was sitting near his stack of school books. He would need to feed it soon. Since he assumed that he would be able to give it to Neville at the party yesterday, he hadn't bothered to look at the feeding instructions that came with it.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry heard Dan and Emma's voices raised in surprise. "HERMIONE JANE! What did you just do?!" He walked quickly into the kitchen where he found a flabbergasted-looking Dan and Emma in very nice wizarding robes, looking at their garments in shock. A grinning Hermione was dressed similarly.

As he walked in slightly confused, Hermione turned to him. "We never did get around to telling them that we were now allowed to do magic outside of school, did we?"

"No, you most certainly did not," Emma replied, looking relieved. "And here I was scared to death that a bunch of Ministry people would suddenly swoop in here and put you on trial too for that little stunt just now."

"Sorry about that, Emma," Harry intervened, much to Hermione's relief. "We just found out yesterday that we've been exempted from the underage ban. Guess the topic never came up."

"Well that's good to know, now," Emma said, staring pointedly at Hermione, who smiled embarrassedly.

Turning away from her mother, Hermione then studied Harry for a moment. "Is that what you're wearing?" she asked.

Harry looked down at himself. He was dressed in his school uniform again. She said to dress nicely... This was the nicest thing he had, other than his dress robes. All of the clothes he picked up when they went shopping were casual, everyday wear. She told him not to wear dress robes. He hadn't worn them in a year and a half. Not since the Yule Ball. And Hermione in that blue dress... Periwinkle...

Looking back up, he was about to say that it was what he was going to wear when he saw Dan behind her, staring at him with his eyes wide and shaking his head emphatically. Emma saw him do this and slapped his chest lightly, smiling all the while. Glad they find this funny, Harry thought to himself.

"Erm, no?" Harry said uncertainly. Hermione then pulled out her wand and transfigured his jumper into robes to match theirs; the shirt and tie remained.

Dan and Emma tried to hide their smiles at him having to be dressed as well. "Everyone ready?" Dan asked.

Once outside, the four of them headed down the walk towards the car. Harry felt the car door close behind him in his chest as much as he heard it in his ears. He could feel something heavy begin to weigh down upon him. This was it. There was no funeral; there would be none. Essentially, this was Harry's last goodbye to Sirius: the reading of his will.

After a few moments in the car, all three Grangers took in an extra breath at about the same time, as though they'd suddenly smelled something and were trying to figure out what it was. Harry could understand why they hadn't noticed it during breakfast. He himself rarely noticed anything else over the smell of bacon.

None of them said anything about his cologne, but Harry could see looks of recognition appear on both Hermione's and Dan's faces (Emma was directly in front of him, so he couldn't see her). As he thought about what the label said, he realized they were just smelling whatever they associated with him, so that was probably why they didn't say anything: they just smelled him (but in a good way).

The drive was very quiet, albeit short. They ended up driving only about a mile to the nearby Underground stop, the East Putney Station. The Leaky Cauldron was on the opposite side of London as Wandsworth. Though it was after the morning rush, driving all the way through the city (or completely around it) would take a long time. And good luck trying to find a place to park once they got there.

At different times on the train ride into London, all three Grangers noticed the shift in Harry's mood. Hermione, who was sitting next to him, and Dan and Emma on the opposite side of the train all looked at him with concern at one point or another. Each silently asked with a look if he was okay. Each time, he replied with a nod.

He wasn't really okay, but he was holding on. So in a way, the nod was true enough. Finally, the four of them arrived at the Underground station nearest The Leaky Cauldron. After a brief walk, they saw the big book shop they all knew so well. It was the one right next to the record shop. Or so it appeared that way to the Muggles walking by.

But Harry knew better. As soon as he was close enough to get a good look at it, the tiny, grubby looking pub suddenly appeared. The four of them stood there for a moment, looking at it.

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked at her watch. "Eight-forty," she replied.

Harry nodded and took a deep breath. He grabbed hold of the door handle and opened it. None of the passersby on the street paid any attention to the four people wearing overly warm clothing as they disappeared from the street outside.

As Harry's eyes adjusted to the dark pub, he was immediately greeted by several witches and wizards, all eagerly shaking his hand. With Voldemort's return now common knowledge, people were scared. There'd been no attacks yet, but still...

No one who was not in the Department of Mysteries a month and a half ago knew the full details of what happened that night, other than what Fudge chose to tell them. Despite that, the sudden arrival of the Boy Who Lived into their small world brought them some semblance of hope.

Harry slowly worked his way through the patrons and the attention towards the back of the pub. It was surprisingly full for 8:40 in the morning; then again, they were serving breakfast to all of the people who had taken rooms. Perhaps it was because they were unknown faces in normal wizarding attire, but no one paid any attention to Dan and Emma, who were the last in the door. Those who knew enough of Harry from the Prophet over the years also cast glances at Hermione as she followed him.

A couple of witches cast disapproving glares at her. As she was literally only a step behind him, Harry could see them as well. One in particular caught his attention. In the middle of the crowd was a middle-aged woman he did not recognize. When he looked at her, she reminded him a great deal of his Aunt Petunia, not in appearance but in attitude. She had the look of a person who made other people's business her own.

Remembering that the last time Hermione's name was in the paper it was in regards to her toying with his affections in fourth year with Viktor, Harry again began to feel very protective of her. He knew that, if properly provoked, Hermione could probably easily hex half the bar into oblivion (and he would gladly take the other half for provoking her). Despite that, he still felt protective of her. He knew that she probably didn't need his protection; he just wanted to stop the unwarranted glares in the first place.

Harry slowed, stepping slightly to the side, allowing Hermione to come up along next to him as they continued to walk. He then placed his hand on her back in the guise of directing her around a chair. As he did so, he looked directly at the woman and glared with such intensity to cause her to blanch and return to her breakfast.

To everyone else however, who'd been focusing their attention on the legend standing only a few feet from them and not on his companions, it merely looked like the Boy Who Lived had directed a friend around an obstacle as he looked off towards one corner of the room.

Finally, they reached the back of the bar and walked out into the courtyard behind it. Harry stared at the wall that separated them from Diagon Alley. After a moment, he pulled out his wand and walked up to it. He closed his eyes for a moment and willed himself to be strong. He had to do this for Sirius. He opened his eyes and then tapped a certain brick three times, a brick he now recognized without having to count so many over and so many up.

The four of them watched as the bricks began to rearrange themselves, forming an archway that opened up onto a street behind it. When the bricks stopped moving, Harry and Hermione stepped through onto Diagon Alley, with Dan and Emma right behind them.

The party of four slowly strolled up the street, working their way towards Gringotts Bank. It was a quiet morning: too early for a majority of shoppers, and too late for people who had to work to be out and about. Each of them looked in the windows of the shops as they walked by. There would be time for that later.

All too soon, they found themselves before the front doors of Gringotts. As he stood there looking at them, Harry discovered that these burnished bronze doors stood between him and what he now suddenly realized he was actually looking forward to.

Until this very moment, in the back of his mind, the reading of Sirius's will was nothing more than a business transaction... the exchanging of money and property. The coldness of that, combined with the fact that it was the proof that Sirius was dead made it something to which he'd not been looking forward.

But now that he was here, waiting to be let into the still-closed bank, he realized that if Sirius had gone to the effort of divvying up his property, then maybe, just maybe he also took a minute to leave a message of some kind for him. It was, Harry knew, the kind of message that would have been intended to literally be the last thing Sirius would ever say to him. Now that he thought about it like that, he was actually beginning to feel slightly hopeful about this. Rather than a final farewell, it was now another chance to (figuratively) talk to his godfather.

Standing in front of the doors, he felt someone come up and stand next to, and slightly behind him. The person was too far back to even be visible in his peripheral vision, though he really didn't need to be able to see her to know who it was.

"What time is it?" Harry asked her again.

"Three minutes later than the last time you asked me that," Hermione replied. Harry could somehow hear that she was smiling as she said it. She was trying to lighten the mood a little. Though he was certain he was feeling well enough to not need the mood lightened, he was still extremely grateful that she seemed to care enough to even try.

Hermione took another tiny step forward, coming up directly beside him. As she did, Harry could feel the fabric of his robes rustle slightly as the fabric of her robes brushed against his. Although there was no actually physical contact, Harry felt comforted merely by her presence.

A minute or two later, he turned to see where Dan and Emma had gone. He found them a few yards behind him, happily admiring some of the architectural details of the very old building. While he wasn't really surprised that they might do something like that, he had the strangest suspicion that something about it wasn't right.

For some reason he couldn't explain, Harry felt as though they'd been studying him, and not the building. Deciding that if they were, it was because of their concern for how he was feeling, he shook the feeling off and returned to staring at the front door.

About five minutes later, Harry was beginning to wonder how this was going to work. The letter said to be there at nine o'clock in the morning, but the bank didn't open for business until ten. He was about to ask Hermione about this when suddenly...

"MATE!" Ron shouted out, about a foot behind him; both Harry and Hermione jumped in surprise. The two of them turned around to find a small army of gray robes, all topped with red hair, standing with Dan and Emma. They all appeared highly amused.

Though they hadn't been doing anything, Harry and Hermione both took a slight step away from each other simultaneously, unbeknownst to the other until it was too late. What should have been a very subtle movement by one now looked rather obvious when combined. Harry hoped that if anyone did notice this, they would assume it was simply the last movement from turning around.

"Ron, Ginny," Harry started as he saw that all of the Weasleys were there. "Are you all here for Sirius?" he asked. He figured that if they were, there was no point in actually mentioning the will.

"Yeah," Ron answered solemnly after he stopped grinning from startling him. "Mum and Dad got a letter a while ago saying that we were all supposed to be here."

After a couple minutes of idle chit chat (Harry couldn't help but notice Ginny watching Hermione intently as she and he talked to Ron about their O.W.L.s), a large group of people suddenly apparated into the street behind them.

It was a group of six Aurors led by Kingsley Shacklebolt, all looking as though they were scanning the area. Once they seemed satisfied with whatever they were doing, Kingsley tapped a watch on his wrist with his wand. A moment later, five more people apparated in: Lupin, Tonks, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, and none other than the Minister of Magic herself, Amelia Bones.

"Why am I always the one on the receiving end of these bloody things?" Tonks cried out in complaint immediately as she rubbed her wrist, wincing.

"Because they were your idea," Lupin, McGonagall, and Amelia Bones all replied in unison. Evidently this was not the first time they'd had this discussion. Tonks immediately sought to separate herself from her traveling companions.

"Ron! Ginny! Harry! Hermione! Anyone!" she greeted them desperately, "Save me from my heartless associates!"

"Hello, Tonks," they all replied, returning the smile she was now giving them.

"What're we all standing around for?" she asked as she walked towards the front door, nearly tripping over one of the cobblestones in the street.

"Gringotts is still closed," Ron replied.

"Did anyone knock on the door?" Tonks asked. "They told us to be here at nine, after all."

Everyone else looked at each other with comments like "Never thought of that," and "Didn't get that far." Tonks knocked on the door. A few moments later, a disgruntled looking goblin opened the door. Harry recognized him as Griphook.

"Is there a problem?" Griphook asked disdainfully. "We don't open for another hour."

"We're here to see Darmok," Tonks said in a tone full of authority. Harry tried not to laugh at the surprise he felt. He was so used to seeing her with pink hair and tripping over things that he sometimes forgot she was an Auror. She certainly must've been able to present herself properly when the time was required.

"Ah... the Black Estate," Griphook replied with pleasure, as though he'd been waiting for them. Now that he knew that they were supposed to be here this early, his demeanor changed immediately. "Come right in, come right in."

Walking through the silver doors upon which the warning to "those who take, but do not earn" was engraved, Harry thought about how when every time he walked through these doors, he was reminded of the first time he came here with Hagrid, when they retrieved the Philosopher's Stone. How long ago that now seemed.

As they walked through the marble bank lobby, Amelia Bones came up along side of Harry. "Mister Potter," she greeted him warmly. "A pleasure to meet you again. Almost been a year now, hasn't it?" she asked with a hint of a smile.

"Yes, it has," Harry replied. "And I must say that it's much more agreeable to see you outside of a courtroom," he said, returning her smile. As the large group approached a conference room at the back of the large hall, Harry began to wonder something.

"Minister, please forgive me for asking, and no offense intended, but why are you here?" he asked with as friendly a voice as he could speak.

"Oh, no offense taken, Mister Potter. May I call you Harry?" she asked suddenly as they reached the door to the conference room and waited; Harry nodded. "Honestly Harry, I don't know. I received an owl addressed to Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, requesting his presence today. Since it was addressed to him as Minister and not him personally, I am here in his place."

Madam Bones chuckled slightly. "Somehow I suspect that our dear Mister Black had a few choice last words for my predecessor." Harry began to look slightly anxious about what Sirius might have had to say to Fudge and how Madam Bones would have to endure that.

She must have noticed his apprehension for she quickly spoke up. "Not to worry, Harry. Though I am now Minister in Cornelius's place, I still know that it was addressed to him. I promise I won't take anything your godfather had to say too personally.

"Who knows? I might even get an honest opinion of Cornelius for once." Seeing Harry's confused look, she continued. "You'd be surprised. Even now that he's gone, people are still often wary of criticizing him. Not because they care that he finds out, but rather that they don't want to be seen as complainers.

"After all, if they're willing to complain about Cornelius now that he's gone, maybe people will think they'll complain about me too, or about their department heads, et cetera. Do you understand what I mean?" she asked. Harry shook his head unsurely.

"Tell me Harry, what do you think of your Potions Master?" Madam Bones asked unexpectedly.

"Snape?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Professor Snape," she corrected him.

"Oh, yes, Professor Snape. Well... he's... erm... he's very knowledgeable about potions," he spluttered, feeling very on the spot.

"I see," Madam Bones replied. "And is he an effective teacher in your opinion?"

Oh, Harry knew the answer to that question all too easily. But for some reason, he found himself having a hard time saying it to the Minister of Magic. He could complain for hours about Professor Snape to his classmates, but now he found it rather difficult.

"I see," she repeated after a few moments of silence. She then leaned forward and lowered her voice. "So you don't think he's a slimy, greasy-haired git?" Harry blinked in shock at what he just heard the Minister of Magic say.

"I do have a niece at Hogwarts, you know," she explained. "I hear all about him from her. But amazingly enough, none of her friends have ever told me that when I asked... even before I was Minister. They all seemed to struggle, like you, to try to find something nice to say about him, rather than just answering honestly. Did you know that he's very punctual?" she asked with a smile. "So yes, I am actually looking forward to whatever Sirius has to say."

A few minutes later, at precisely nine o'clock, the door of the conference room opened. Behind it stood a rather tall goblin (by their standards) dressed in a very formal business suit; most Gringotts goblins wore the standard uniform of scarlet and gold.

"Good morning," Darmok, Executor of the Black Estate, greeted them. "Please, step inside." The assorted conversations that had been going on while they waited immediately died down as everyone started to file in. Everyone, that is, except for one person.

Once inside, Harry turned slightly and noticed that Professor Dumbledore had not joined them. He returned to the doorway.

"Aren't you coming in, sir?" Harry asked.

"No," the Headmaster replied simply. "I was merely accompanying the Minister here after my latest visit."

"But... this is for Sirius," Harry said in a rather lost voice, almost feeling wounded.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I cannot attend. I was not invited," Dumbledore explained with a hint of sadness. The look on Harry's face was obviously one of shock and confusion. He opened his mouth twice to try to speak, but nothing came out.

"Harry, Sirius and I did not see eye to eye on a great many number of things last year. It is not entirely unexpected therefore that he might not have wanted me here today." An almost fond smile appeared on the older wizard's face. "I like to think that this is his way of having the final word from our last 'discussion.'"

While part of Harry did understand Sirius's feelings and part of him did not, none of him knew why the Headmaster looked as though he was almost happy about it.

"The last time Sirius and I talked, he said some things. While I heard his words, I quite possibly did not listen to what he was saying. Call it another old man's mistake. That was the first week of June. Needless to say, I became somewhat busy after that, and did not have another chance to speak with him... ever again."

Harry was too focused on the Headmaster to see or hear the sound of several people arguing on the other side of the lobby by the front doors.

"I left things at a place where, today, I would rather I hadn't. Even now, the Marauder is able to teach me a thing or two. So... no, Harry, I am not upset to be left out of this meeting. I have no need for more possessions... as I'm sure you can well attest."

Dumbledore looked over his glasses at Harry, his eyes sparkling and twinkling as happily as he could ever remember seeing them. Seeing his Headmaster in such good spirits about this helped wash away some of his own discomfort about the situation.

"If this is his last request of me, then I am happy to honor it," Dumbledore finished. He then set his hand on Harry's shoulder, gave it a couple pats, then turned and headed back into the lobby, still obscuring the view of what was going on out there.

As Harry turned around to where everyone else was seated waiting for him, the earlier commotion finally reached the conference room.

"... demand to be let in! I am of direct relation to him!" a tall, slim, blonde woman insisted, barging into the conference room.

"Narcissa Malfoy," Madam Bones greeted the new arrival courteously but coolly. "A pleasure to see you again, today. And Mister Malfoy. It's been a while since I've seen you," she added as Draco arrogantly came striding in behind his mother. Upon his arrival, he immediately began glaring at Harry.

"Minister?" Narcissa replied, clearly surprised. She also did not appear to be entirely thrilled at seeing her here. Then again, Mrs. Lucius Malfoy usually looked like that, so who was to say? "What're you doing here?"

Madam Bones cast Harry, who was standing between the two women, the most fleeting of glances before speaking. "My business is my own, so I don't ordinarily answer such questions. However, to be honest, I don't know. The attendance of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was requested, so... here I am."

For some reason, the mention of Fudge's name seemed to make Narcissa a little happier. Harry wondered if possibly she hoped to get something out of this if Fudge was supposed to have been involved.

"What brings you here on this fine day?" Madam Bones asked. Harry was quite certain he already knew the answer.

"One of my relatives has died," Narcissa replied, sounding very sincere; Harry was impressed. "I am here to assist with any of the final arrangements, in any way needed."

Harry SO wanted to say something just then. Now would've been a very ideal time for one of those two-word responses he'd once considered a couple of weeks ago. However, seeing as how the Minister had been handling the situation very nicely so far, he decided to see what she did first.

To Harry's surprise, Madam Bones actually smiled as she turned to go to her seat. But there was something about her smile that told him that this was not over just yet. He glanced over to Narcissa and Draco to see both of them wearing their usual arrogant, smug expressions. Draco sneered at him, glanced briefly towards where Harry assumed Hermione was, and then silently mouthed the words "scarhead" and "mudblood."

Deciding it not wise to start a fight in front of the Minister of Magic, Harry turned around to find a seat.

The conference room was very informal in arrangement. Amazingly enough, it seemed ideal for this type of meeting. A large business table was in the front of the room, upon which sat a few sheets of parchment and a small stack of envelopes. Built into the table was a small speaking podium, obviously designed for someone of goblin stature.

In front of the table were a number of squashy sofas, each of which would comfortably seat two or three people. Also coincidently enough, the sofas seemed to be arranged to match the occupants.

A small grouping of four sofas on the far side of the room sat all of the Weasleys. Another four on Harry's side sat Hermione, Dan and Emma, Tonks and Lupin, and Professor McGonagall. And in the middle of the room were three for Madam Bones and her Auror escorts. Seeing an empty seat next to Hermione (and her subtly glancing at it as she looked at him), Harry sat down next to her.

"Mr. Darmok," Madam Bones called, indicating he may begin.

"Thank you all for coming here this morning," Darmok started. "But before we begin... What was your name again, madam?" he asked, looking towards the two Malfoys.

"Narcissa Malfoy," she stated professionally. The goblin continued to stare at her. "Mrs. Lucius Malfoy," she said, very proudly.

"Ah, thank you," Darmok replied as he started looking at a sheet of parchment. "I'm sorry, but according to my records, you have no business here."

"WHAT?!" Narcissa shouted out indignantly. "Sirius Black was my cousin! How can you say that I have no business here?!" At Darmok's raised eyebrow, she quickly lowered her tone of voice, though it was evident that she was still enraged.

"Quite simply, madam." Darmok replied very professionally. "Your name is not on the list of bequeathments," he explained as if he personally didn't care whether she was there or not. All he seemed interested in was who was on the list and who wasn't. Harry wondered slightly how she knew about this meeting if she wasn't invited. Then again, small details such as actually being invited didn't seem be of much importance to families like the Malfoys.

"There MUST be some mistake!" Narcissa argued, beginning to lose her composure.

"I doubt it," Darmok replied. "However... What is your ancestry?"

"The House of Black," Narcissa replied confidently.

"What is your lineage?"

"Pureblood," she said with relish. Both she and Draco then cast an obvious look of contempt at both Harry and Hermione.

"When you married Mr. Lucius Malfoy, did you take the traditional pureblood marriage oath?"

"Of course," Narcissa replied proudly. Just then, Harry felt Hermione nudge him subtly with her elbow as she sat next to him. He smiled slightly; he too realized where this was leading.

The Executor of the Black Estate certainly did not disappoint. "Thank you," Darmok replied professionally. "Since you have not been invited by the Estate, you have no business here in this private transaction. By your confirmation of pureblood marriage oath, a binding magical and legal contract, you no longer have any claim to the family name Black. You therefore have no legal stature to contest the validity of this Will."

Narcissa Malfoy, and Draco, looked fit to be tied. "WHAT?! How DARE-"

"If you would like to debate this further," Darmok interrupted her, "you may discuss it with them." He then pointed behind Narcissa. Everyone who'd been watching the tall goblin with rapture simultaneously turned to see where he was pointing.

In the doorway now stood two very unfriendly looking goblins. Both Narcissa and Draco seemed to freeze for a moment when they saw them. These goblins did not wear uniforms of scarlet and gold like the others. Instead, they wore black and white; they were surprisingly reminiscent of the uniforms of the Metropolitan Police. All that was missing was the iconic checkerboard cap.

The battleaxes these two carried however, suggested that they did not respond to telephone calls to 999, nor did they issue citations for running red lights. After silently staring at the sharp implements for a few moments, Narcissa seemed to regain her head of steam. She turned back to Darmok and opened her mouth to start again.

Darmok cut her off before she could speak. "Now, I must ask you to leave. You are disrupting banking business."

Those must have been the magic words, for both Narcissa's and Draco's faces immediately drained of color... an impressive, though unflattering sight for people as pale as they normally were. Now they looked at the goblins in black and white in genuine fear. Neither spoke another word and immediately turned to leave, giving the security goblins a wide berth as they passed; the goblins followed the Malfoys out, closing the door behind them.

"My apologies," Darmok offered to the group.

"Not at all. It was our pleasure, I assure you," one of the two twins immediately piped up. Everyone began to snicker slightly.

"Very well. Your presence has been requested here today for the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Sirius Black. A Will can be made in many ways. Mister Black has elected to write a letter to all of you that I am to read. Then, the actual bequeathments will be made in the form of private letters that he wrote to each party listed. If there are no questions, we will begin."

Seeing none, Darmok picked up a solitary envelope that was sitting next to a larger stack of envelopes. He ran his finger over the envelope several times, presumably to verify authenticity, in a fashion not unlike when Griphook opened vault seven hundred thirteen almost five years ago. Seemingly satisfied, he opened the envelope and began to read the letter inside.

"Dated 29 February, 1996."

Why am I not surprised Sirius would do this on the leap day? Harry mused to himself. Oh, and he hasn't updated it since then...

"My dear family and friends,

"I wish that I could say this letter finds you well, but I have this dogging suspicion that if you are reading this, then I am dead. That certainly has to have put a damper on things.

"I have much to say to each of you here today. If I'd been able to get out a little more these last couple years, I might've been able to do this with a little more pizzazz. However, since I've been cooped up here, you know where, doing who knows what, I had to settle for writing letters.

"To be honest, now that I'm finished with them all, I must confess that I rather like it this way. I think I prefer to be able to leave you all with a letter... something more than a few gold coins and a useless recording of my voice or some Pensieve echo of a memory.

"Each of you will be getting your own letter where I will be able to say the things that I really wanted to. I don't want to be repetitive, so I'll keep this letter as short as possible.

"But, before we get into it, there is one little detail I felt I needed to add. I have the feeling that some of you, (stare pointedly at each person in the room)..." Darmok said, then paused for a second, staring at the letter. "Oh, my apologies. That was a note for me," he said, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I have the feeling that some of you," he resumed, pausing for a second to stare pointedly at each person in the room. At this point, Harry could not help himself. He put his head down, covered his face with his hand, and began to shake slightly. When Hermione leaned forward slightly about to ask if he was alright, she noticed that he was not fighting back tears, but rather laughter.

"... might try to sit there and say that you refuse to accept whatever I've left for you, that you'd rather have me back than some trinket." Harry's stifled laughter had subsided by now, though he still hadn't lifted his head yet.

"But, we all know that isn't how the world works. Since I refuse to allow any unclaimed inheritances to go to my dear Minister Fudge, I have decided that if any of you should decline to accept your gift, that it be split evenly between my dear cousins Narcissa and Bellatrix. I hope that's motivation enough to stop the 'I don't want any money,' objections.

"So! Down the business at hand.

"I, Sirius Padfoot Black (Padfoot not my legal name), of..." Darmok said, then stared at the letter again and sighed. Harry suddenly burst out laughing. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Now that the ice had been broken, several other people allowed themselves to start laughing at the difficulties Sirius was putting his executor through.

"I'm... so s-sorry... ev-everyone," Harry choked out between laughs. It was just that whole 'stare pointedly at everyone' thing a minute ago. It just made me want to laugh. I'm sorry. And then when Sirius did it again with his name... I just couldn't help it."

Once he and everyone else was settled, Harry looked up to Darmok, who was obviously waiting for them to finish.

"Again, I'm sorry, Mister Darmok. Please continue." The goblin nodded, slightly in gratitude, slightly in annoyance.

"I, Sirius Black, of competent mind, do hereby bequest upon my friends and family the so-named items contained in the attached, sealed letters.

"Please, all of you, though I am no longer with you in body, know that I will always be with you in heart and spirit. I look forward to the day when you will join me. But remember, as Remus can attest, it takes me forever to pack and unpack my school trunk, so, please, don't be in any rush to join me here. I'm not in any hurry. And besides, it isn't as if I'm getting any older." A couple of snickers could be heard in the otherwise quiet room.

"I love you all.

"Padfoot," Darmok finished, set the letter down, and then grabbed the stack of envelopes and set them on his podium. He then began speaking from memory as if he had given this speech many times before.

"Here you will find your individual letters. You will find there is a place for each person to sign at the bottom of the letter. For transactions of property, your signature constitutes a legal contract to take ownership of said property. Any person not Of Age receiving property must have a parent or legal guardian signature as well."

Harry suddenly became worried. Did that mean he would need to have the Dursleys there? But then he remembered that the letter said their presence was requested, but not required.

"For transactions of money only, your signature confirms that you have accepted and received the sum. It will also automatically complete the transfer to your account. No parent or guardian signature is required for monetary transactions. Persons who have individual bequests but do not have their own vault should see the Executor, me, before signing."

Darmok then began going through the envelopes, calling names and handing out the letters as they came up.

"Minister of Magic. Minerva McGonagall. Hermione Granger. Gred, Forge, and family. Tripsy." Upon hearing that name, Harry looked around to see if he'd somehow missed someone in the room who he didn't recognize. A slightly red-faced Tonks came up and took the letter.

"Moony." On her way back to her seat, 'Tripsy' smacked Lupin in arm when she saw the grin on his face as he walked up to get his letter.

Harry's letter was the last one called. "Prongs, Jr.," Darmok read.

Everyone was waiting for him. Since he was designated as the primary beneficiary, no one could open their letters until he opened his.

Sitting back down on the sofa, Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As he opened his eyes, he looked down at the envelope, broke the wax seal, then opened it and pulled out the letter.